


take a risk

by interstellarbeams



Category: Aladdin (2019)
Genre: Choices, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene, Palace life, Plans, Royalty, Taking Down Jafar, Unexpected Visitors, discovery of feelings, girl talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-12 16:14:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21479209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/interstellarbeams/pseuds/interstellarbeams
Summary: Jasmine doesn’t know how to feel after her kiss with Prince Ali.
Relationships: Aladdin & Jasmine (Disney), Aladdin/Jasmine (Disney), Dalia/Genie (Disney)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 58





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Katie for being my beta! You’re the best! 
> 
> Thanks to Kayla for always supporting my Aladdin ideas and being a great friend. 
> 
> Kudos and comments are appreciated! 💕

After Dalia had helped her change for bed and returned to her own chamber it was late, later than Jasmine was accustomed to, but no matter how she tossed and turned or clutched her pillow she couldn’t fall asleep. 

The lamps had been turned down and the candles blown out, but the bright stars strewn across the expanse of sky, seen through the open balcony, called to her, so she pushed the blankets back and crossed the floor on bare feet. 

The stone floor of the balcony was cold against her feet, causing goosebumps to erupt on her flesh, but the warmth lingering in her senses and on her lips was what had kept her awake, not the early autumn night. 

She sat down on the bench, turning to face the ocean, the waves glittering in the moonlight a glorious accompaniment to the shining stars. She rested her head on her arms as she stared up at the constellations.

Rajah huffed. Yawning, he padded over to her and laid down, his head resting on the bench cushion in an eerily similar mimicry of his owner’s posture.

“What do you think, Rajah?” she asked as she slipped a hand over his large head and scratched his ears, causing him to purr like the cats that could be found in the alleyways and lurking around the docks of Agrabah. “Is he worth it? All this sleeplessness.”

She sighed. Of course, Rajah would say so, if he could speak that is. Her pet had taken a liking to the prince, which had surprised her since he was usually so wary of strangers. Prince Anders had gotten a lunge and very nearly a bite when they had first met, but Prince Ali had received a curious sniff and then a kiss … unheard of. 

Her thoughts turned from Rajah’s stolen kiss to the kiss she and Ali had shared after the magic carpet ride. The interest in his eyes as they stood together, tension heavy in the air, his quick glance toward her lips and back. She had barely been able to breathe before he was leaning in and she experienced her first kiss. 

The soft press of his lips was a foreign feeling but one that woke the butterflies in her stomach. Exhilaration thrummed through her, a rush of adrenaline similar to what she has experienced as they flew through the clouds. Her heart pounded in her ears and she felt like it might beat out of her chest. She wanted so badly to reach for him, but she didn’t know what to do with her hands and he didn’t attempt to touch her before he was pulling away. 

She kept her eyes closed for a moment, almost expecting to wake up in her bed when she opened her eyes, but it wasn’t a dream. The awed look that he gave her before she whispered good night and walked away was emblazoned on her mind’s eye and she sighed again, pressing her fingertips to her lips. 

She had been courted by many suitors since she had reached marriageable age. Her father had sought a man of royal parentage for her to marry so that he could inherit the Agrabahian throne since her father and the sultana had failed to conceive a male heir. 

Many had tried to woo her with flowers and expensive gifts, many more had attempted to make her acquaintance more intimately than would be accepted in her father’s great hall, but never had one of them been allowed that pleasure. 

Despite his bold entrance into their city, his audacious comment that she was for sale and his showy dance in front of the assembled group of partygoers, his actions when they were alone spoke of a totally different man.

He very obviously wanted to impress her, but he let her take charge when they flew on the magic carpet, listened to her talk about her love for her city, made sure she was comfortable with the warmth of his jacket around her shoulders in the cool evening air and didn’t pressure her for more than she was willing to give. 

She liked him. Which wasn’t usually the case with her suitors. They were tolerated for a short period of time before she rejected them and typically they grew offended, ranting and raving over their hurt pride, but Jasmine wouldn’t accept less than the highest standards.

His smile, directed toward her, was charming but also slightly shy, his gaze was earnest and admiring and his looks — well, she wouldn’t let him know it — but he was the handsomest prince that she had come across and the butterflies in her stomach, whenever he came close, were proof of that attraction.

She yawned, eyes watering with the force of it and she stood up, suddenly exhausted. Rajah’s breathing was deep and he didn’t even stir when she stepped over the long length of his body to cross the room and head toward her four poster bed. Pulling the covers over her legs, she laid down, the memory of the prince’s kiss leaving a smile on her lips as she drifted off to sleep while the stars kept their eternal watch.

————

Jasmine expected her day to be too busy to leave her much time for thinking about her new suitor, but even when her hands were busy and her thoughts were buzzing with all the other things she had to do she couldn’t keep herself from thinking of him.

_Where was he right now? Would she see him later that day or would she happen upon him in the corridor as she turned a corner and meet face to face with him for the first time since their kiss? What would she say? Would he smile and kiss her hand or would she demure and turn away like she hadn’t noticed him in particular?_

Walking in the garden with Dalia, the hot desert sun baking the tiled floors and lending much needed sustenance to the flowers, she couldn’t stop thinking about the way he had wrapped his arm around her waist on the magic carpet and how he has grimaced when Rajah had licked his face with his very large, rough tongue. She smiled to herself, twisting her fingers together in front of her, barely hearing the string of conversation that Dalia had kept up as they walked. 

“Jasmine? Jasmine, are you even listening to me?”

She was suddenly brought back to the present moment by a hand to her arm and found her handmaiden staring at her, her brow furrowed in concern.

“I’m sorry, Dalia. What — what did you say?” 

“What part? I’ve been talking to you for the last forty-five minutes.” Dalia sighed in exasperation, staring at her friend.

Jasmine felt horrible, but she couldn’t help it. Her thoughts wouldn’t quiet long enough for her to focus and Prince Ali’s soft lips and charming dimples were wreaking havoc on what was normally a rational brain.

“I’m sorry. I —” Jasmine wanted to say she didn’t know what had gotten into her, but she knew it would be a lie. She knew what, or rather _who_, was distracting her and why.

“You’re acting strange today. Is this about the prince?” Dalia asked, following Jasmine to the fountain where she sat on a cushion resting on the tiled edge.

Jasmine shot her friend a you-know-exactly-what-this-is-about look, which Dalia promptly ignored as she made herself comfortable on a second cushion. 

Jasmine pressed a hand to her forehead before smoothing it across her hair and dropping it into her lap.

“I can’t stop thinking about him,” she finally admitted, glad that she was alone with her most trusted friend instead of the whole group of handmaidens that usually accompanied her on her daily walks. 

Dalia gave her a told-you-so look, which Jasmine wanted to roll her eyes at but she restrained herself. 

“If I may be so bold, I think that it’s a good thing that you gave him a chance. I know he acted a little strange at first, but I think he really likes you and allowed his nerves to get the better of him, that’s all.” 

“I know how _you_ feel about him … but I don’t know how I feel about him.”

“You just said you can’t stop thinking about him. That has to be a pretty big clue about how you feel.”

Jasmine sighed before getting to her feet and pacing the length of the courtyard, her magenta skirts trailing after her. She turned back to her friend after a moment of contemplation.

“I like how he makes me feel, of course. He kissed me! I’ve never been kissed before. Maybe this is just a natural reaction to being kissed for the first time. What if it isn’t special? What if it’s just my inexperience that makes me feel like I could float up to the clouds and be happy to stay there if he continues to evoke this feeling in me.”

Dalia gave her a frank look, “Jasmine, this is not a normal reaction. There was a boy back in my village who my parents considered as a husband for me before I came to work in the palace. He was nice and all, even handsome to look at like your Prince Ali but he … well, he kissed like he was trying to swallow me and I’d be happy to never relive that. Plus, I’ve never heard you sound this fanciful before. You’ve clearly got it bad.” 

Jasmine grimaced before allowing a small smile to lift the corner of her lips. Kissing the prince had definitely not felt that way. It was more like being cherished, admired, sought after. It had been sweet and brief and she wanted to do it again. She did have it bad. _How had that happened so swiftly?_

“But …” Dalia offered when Jasmine acted like she was going to keep quiet.

Jasmine sighed as she sat back down. 

“But what if you’re right? What if he isn’t a prince and he has been lying to me? How could I let myself be pulled in so quickly by a pair of innocent brown eyes?” 

Dalia, who was always quick to conversation and even quicker to give advice, typically unsolicited, was silent and Jasmine felt an uncomfortable twinge in her stomach. 

“I think if it turns out he is lying then all you can do is face the consequences, together or apart.”

“Oh, but Dalia, I have to marry a prince. It would be … _heartbreaking_, if he turns out to be Aladdin and not Ali, like he told me. I don’t know if I could take it.”

Jasmine sniffed, twisting her fingers together in her lap. She felt like crying and she didn’t understand such a quick change of emotion in a matter of minutes.

Dalia reached out and placed her hand over hers. Jasmine turned her hand over and grasped ahold of her fingers, grateful for the relationship she shared with her longtime friend and handmaiden.

“I know you’re scared. Loving anyone is a risk, prince or pauper. If it wasn’t like taking a leap, then what would be the point of it all? You have to decide whether you’re willing to take that risk or not. Is he worth it? Will you be able to move on if you give him up?”

“I want to believe he’s worth it. He — well, he’s so different from all the other suitors who have come to court me. I feel like he understands me. How silly is that? We’ve barely known each other for two days but … he — he makes me feel appreciated, like my dreams matter. How could I give up the only person who ever made me feel like I could fly while also keeping me tethered to the ground?”

Dalia shot her a bemused look and Jasmine released her hand to wrap an arm around her and drag her into a hug, laughing at Dalia’s shriek when they tumbled off the fountain edge and landed on the hard tile floor in a pile of silk skirts. After a moment of laughter and rubbing of sore bottoms as they stood up, Dalia stopped her with a hand to her wrist.

“Well then, I think you have your answer.” She smiled affectionately before turning to pick up the cushions that had fallen to the ground and leaving Jasmine to ponder her next move.

————

Jasmine walked around her bedroom, barely seeing the bowls of flowers that were placed on various tables though their scent perfumed the air. Rajah lifted his head from his relaxed pose to watch her before he sighed and laid it back down. His owner clearly wasn’t going to stop pacing anytime soon.

She picked up a book, one that she had been reading recently when she needed a distraction from her own problems, but when she laid down on the chaise to read it, she could barely get past the first line. 

Thoughts of the kiss the night before, Dalia’s questions and her own feelings wouldn’t stop reeling in her head like the dancers at the Harvest Festival. She sighed and sat up, brushing her hair back over her shoulder. Setting the book to the side she stood and crossed to the balcony. 

The city wasn’t quite as beautiful as it had looked in the moonlight the night before, but the brightly shining cupolas, festive multicolored buildings, bougainvillea-covered awnings and shimmering ocean waves held a certain charm that she felt she would never tire of no matter how long she lived or how many times she viewed it. 

Jasmine was still conflicted despite her best friend’s advice and her own words. She didn’t know whether she could take the risk of accepting Prince Ali, loving him, and him turning out to be Aladdin — a man she could never marry no matter how she may care for him. Never mind the lies, if he was in fact Aladdin, how could she let herself love him knowing that he may end up hurting her. 

Prince Ali had asked her to trust him and she had. He had shown her more than she could have ever dreamed of, not only a world outside the palace but also a world where she didn’t have to be alone. A world where love could be found, had and given in return and she didn’t think she could give that up no matter what it cost her. 

Now that she had made up her mind she twirled to the bowl on the table at the center of her chamber and lifted one of the flowers inside to her nose. She suddenly remembered her father and gasped, dropping the flower to the floor to be crushed underfoot. _Would he accept her choice? He would have to, right?_ She had to marry a prince. Ali was a prince. He couldn’t say no. 

She decided to go and tell him. He could draw up the marriage contract and — that’s when a knock came on her door and she went to answer it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Katie is the best beta! She always takes time out of her busy schedule to help me and it means a lot! Thank you lovely! 
> 
> I hope this is a satisfactory conclusion to ‘take a risk,’ enjoy and tell me what you think of my first missing scene attempt! 💕

Jasmine’s plans changed as soon as she opened the door and stood face to face with her suitor. Her swirling thoughts came to a grinding halt when she noticed the disheveled condition of yesterday’s clothes and he — well, he was all wet with damp hair slicked back from his forehead.

“What are you doing here?” She stepped closer, concern flooding through her and without even thinking she pressed her hands to his cheeks, eyes searching his before she looked him over, trying to make sure he was OK. _Had he somehow fallen into the fountain?_“What happened to you?” 

The sleeves of his shirt were pushed up to his elbows and she found herself distracted by his forearms for a moment, remembering the strength and tenderness of his arm wrapped around her the night before as they flew around on a magic carpet. 

“That’s why I’m here. There’s something I need to tell you. I — can I come in?” 

That’s when Jasmine realized she had been standing there blocking the doorway and any number of servants or guards could walk by and see them. She berated herself for being so careless, but she had just been thinking about him and then he was standing right there in front of her. Anyone would have been thrown for a loop. 

_Why does he affect me so? We’ve hardly known each other for a day_, she thought to herself as she dropped her hands to her sides and stepped out of the way to let him inside.

She shut the door quickly with a quiet thump before following him to the middle of the room, where he glanced around suspiciously. 

She narrowed her eyes, confused, as she watched him walk out to the balcony and pace the edge before he came back. She was the only occupant of the room. _What was he doing? Hadn’t he come here to speak to her?_

“What are you looking for?” she asked, unable to hold in her curiosity.

“I, uh — sorry about that. I’m feeling a little overwhelmed at the moment.”

She didn’t know what to think as she watched him. The butterflies in her stomach that she had felt the night before increased their activity at his closeness and he was all the way across the room. 

She watched him, concerned and confused in equal turn, standing in the middle of the rug. She felt a sudden change in his temperament from the anxious watchfulness of a few minutes ago to measured confidence as he lifted his head. 

“It’s Jafar.” He finally spoke and her curiosity piqued, the intensity of his gaze pulling her in like a moth to a flame.

She stared up at him, hardly daring to lift her eyes from his as she moved toward the nearby divan, not even caring that her skirts might get wrinkled as she sat down. 

“What is it? What’s he done?”

“He tried to kill me.” He propped his hands on his hips, his gaze softening as he looked down at her, perhaps to assuage her fears at the horrible news.

“What? When?” She pressed her hands into her lap, wanting nothing more than to rush over and wrap her arms around him, but they had never touched so familiarly, except for their shared kiss and her unexpected caress of his cheeks a few moments ago.

“Just this morning, I — I was leaving my chamber to head down to breakfast and some guards stopped me in the corridor. The next thing I know I’m in his study and he’s having the guards tie me to a chair.”

“But why … why would he do such a thing? Why would my father’s guards do this? I don’t understand.” Jasmine stood then and, allowing herself to be bold, she reached out and grasped him by the hands. 

“I —” He stopped and she realized she had touched him without even asking. Heat flooded into her cheeks as she averted her eyes and pulled her hands away, suddenly feeling bereft, like something had been stolen from her, but then he reached out and grabbed ahold of her hands.

“Hey, you — you don’t have to be afraid. I’m sorry if I scared you.”

“No, no, it’s not that. I just — I thought you would think I was too bold, grabbing you like that. I’m sorry.”

“There's no need to be sorry. I — I probably shouldn’t have assumed either.” 

She frowned at him and he grew bashful. It was his turn to pull away from her as he stepped back, becoming self-conscious again. She could very well understand his moods. She also felt like she was being pulled in many different directions emotionally, like a ship tossed on a stormy sea.

“What do you mean?”

“About last night … when I kissed you. I’m sorry if I was too forward. I — you were just so beautiful in the moonlight and the magic carpet ride. I — I was overly excited, I guess.”

“No, you don’t have to apologize. I wanted you to kiss me. I …” She glanced away over his shoulder, to see a dove sitting on the edge of the balcony, its soft coos echoing in the quiet room, and she wondered if she should be saying this. A princess wasn’t normally supposed to be so forthright, especially with a man who wasn’t formally hers, but at that moment she didn’t care, “I wouldn’t mind doing it again, to be honest. I was thinking about it all last night and this morning, too.”

The warmth and tenderness in his deep brown eyes changed to surprise and then to want as he let his gaze drift toward her mouth. Heat flooded through her again, but this time it wasn’t embarrassment or the warmth of her chamber at midday that had her flushed. The change in the atmosphere between them was abrupt, but she found that she didn’t mind it one bit.

He stepped closer and lifted his hands, the touch of his palms to her bare arms igniting her from the inside out, like a taper to a hot coal, and she pressed her hands to his chest, the damp fabric of his shirt barely registering in her consciousness as he leaned closer, a welcome intensity burning in his eyes. 

The reason for his presence in her room and all the worries and wondering of the past twenty-four hours faded away as she focused all her attention on him. 

Her heart pounded in her chest and she was conscious of an answering echo under her palms. She felt as if she were holding her breath and the only way she could breathe again was to experience the touch of his lips once more. She flexed her fingers against his shirt, not even realizing what kind of havoc she must be causing in him as his breath ghosted against her lips. Goosebumps erupted on her arms, the expectation almost more than she could bear as he ducked his head and she allowed her eyelids to flutter closed, when a loud clatter echoed behind them.

Jasmine gasped, turning almost immediately, one hand still pressed against his side when she realized it was only Dalia.

“Jasmine, what on earth —” she whispered ferociously, dark eyebrows lowering over darker eyes. “Why is he here? What would your father say if he caught you … doing that?”

Jasmine was confused. Dalia never acted this way, never mind the fact that she knew she and the prince had kissed the night before — she and Dalia had talked about it earlier in the day and the night before.

“Dalia,” Jasmine took a step toward her friend, who had dropped a golden bowl of fruit to the floor, “I’m sorry, I — we,” She gestured towards Ali, trying to explain herself, but she couldn’t form a complete thought she was so flustered. 

“Here, let me help you with that.” Ali stepped around her and, kneeling next to Dalia, he helped her pick up the fruit. 

Most princes she had met barely paid any attention to their own retainers, much less bent to help them when they dropped something, and Jasmine’s heart warmed at the sight. While her thoughts still whirled from the kiss they almost shared, his revelation about Jafar and the overwhelming feelings battered at her heart. 

“Don’t be mad at her. I was the one who came here asking to see her. She’s not at fault.” She became conscious of Ali’s explanation as she was drawn from her inward thoughts and she walked toward them as he handed the now full fruit bowl back to Dalia, who then stood and placed it on a nearby table.

“Why did you come here?” Dalia asked, a puzzled frown creasing her forehead, “and why are you all wet?”

“It’s Jafar. He tried to kill him,” Jasmine blurted out, pressing a hand to her churning stomach as the thought of a dead Prince Ali sunk in. 

“How? Why?” 

“I — well, that’s why I came here. He — Jafar, he basically kidnapped me. He had me tied to a chair and then he ...,” he pressed a hand to his chest, his features pinched like he felt some sort of pressure in his chest. 

Had Jafar managed to injure him? she thought as she rushed to his side and pressed a hand to his, where it rested over his heart. She still didn’t know the full extent of the story, but she knew that she trusted the prince more than her father’s wily adviser.

“What is it? What hurts?” she asked, bending her head trying to catch his eyes, not even caring that Dalia shouldn’t see her so frazzled over a man she barely knew, but her heart didn’t care about that. She only wanted to ensure that he was OK. 

“Nothing. I’m fine, physically … . I, I’m sorry. I just can't get over it. I almost died.” His face fell as his eyes filled with tears and he turned his head away, almost as if he were ashamed to have her see him so emotional. But that didn't matter to Jasmine. She only cared that he was OK, at least, physically.

She couldn’t do anything about his emotional trauma so she did the only thing she could think of and wrapped her arms around him in a fierce hug, her hand going to the back of his head as she cradled him against her. 

As they stood together in the middle of the room, Ali wrapped his arms around her. Though Jasmine meant to be the one comforting him, she took solace in his embrace. She had completely forgotten about her earlier worry of being too forward with him in the wake of his pain, but the warmth of him in her arms pushed all those silly thoughts away. He needed her and that was all that mattered.

Jasmine locked eyes with a concerned Dalia, who wrung her hands in front of her before announcing she was going to get his manservant before she rushed from the room. 

Fury filled her suddenly, not only that the vizier should treat their guest so abhorrently and use and abuse her father’s guards by involving them in his scheme, but for him to think that he could just get away with it … that nobody would notice the prince missing, that nobody would care. Well, she did and she would see that Jafar paid.

Ali lifted his head from her shoulder and she pulled back, but couldn’t bring herself to fully let him go as he looked back at her, dark bangs hanging across his forehead in an eerily familiar way. 

“He tried to drown me,” he mumbled, barely able to look at her. “He pushed me out of a window into the ocean. I’ve never been that close to death before.” 

Jasmine was confused — Before? Was he talking about the wars? — but she didn’t stop to think it through. Her heart immediately broke for him as tears filled her own eyes. 

She was at a loss. She had never seen the vizier act so outrightly villainous, though there had been dark rumors for years that there were more than just books and maps in his study. She had never been in the vizier’s personal quarters for obvious reasons, but he seemed to disappear into them quite often and stay locked inside for hours, especially after private meetings with her father. 

Jasmine had been taught to ignore gossip from a young age. It was beneath her rank as princess to speak ill of others, her mother had often told her, but she shouldn’t indulge in it because gossip was typically false or blown out of proportion and could certainly hurt others. Her mother and her nursemaids had taught her better manners — how to treat others with respect and to give them the benefit of the doubt unless proven otherwise. 

Living in the palace her whole life, it was hard to ignore certain things but she tried not to let it affect her own opinions of her servants, staff and the many courtiers. It was the worst part of palace life, according to Dalia, and she didn’t even live inside the palace walls like so many others did. 

“I’m so sorry. We— we have to tell Baba. He should know about this.” 

“I think so too. I’m sorry to burden you with all this,” He spoke, voice growing stronger by the minute, “but I didn’t know whether your father would listen to me.”

“No, no, you did the right thing.” Jasmine moved her hands up to rest on each side of his neck, and looked into his eyes, “You did the right thing by coming to me. My father, he will deal with Jafar and— and you’ll never have to fear him again.” 

His gaze searched hers, the warmth that had rested there only moments earlier now clouded over with tears and worry. He opened his mouth to say who knows what but then he was pulling away from her. 

She crossed her arms as she watched him step to the balcony’s edge and lean his forearms against the balustrade. She was unsure of why he kept pulling away from her… he wanted to trust her, didn’t he? That had to be why he had come to her in the first place, so why was he acting so strange? 

She followed him to the balcony’s edge, where he looked out over the city, and came to stand at his side. She couldn’t help but draw nearer to him despite his confusing behavior. She felt a connection to him, a stronger feeling than she had expected to feel towards someone she had just met. 

Uncertainty and too many questions filled her head, buzzing around like busy bees, but then he touched her once again, lifting her hand from the warmth of the sun-soaked stone balcony and wrapped his fingers around her own. All her focus went back to him and the way that his hand felt right against hers, the uncertainty fleeing, like the morning doves disturbed from their perches by the servant’s beating rugs against the palace walls.

He turned to her, a thoughtful frown wrinkling the skin between his eyebrows. 

“Jafar clearly thinks I’m a threat. He’s after only one thing, your father’s throne, and he doesn’t care who he hurts to make that a reality.”

I’ve never known anyone to have such kind eyes, Jasmine thought to herself, although Aladdin’s eyes had been similarly thoughtful when they had talked about feeling trapped in their different, but strangely similar situations, but this wasn’t the time for those kinds of thoughts.

“Jasmine? Did you hear me?” He asked, and she pulled herself back to the moment, feeling her heart jump in her chest at the direction her thoughts were taking her. 

“Yes, yes, of course. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m struggling to focus today,” she replied, knowing full well, that he was the reason she couldn’t focus.

It wasn’t like she didn’t know his intent to come to Agrabah, to acquire her hand in marriage, but to hear him utter those words reminded her that if he did indeed succeed, that he would be the one to sit on the throne as her husband. A twinge of disappointment hit her, at the thought that she wouldn’t be sultan, but Ali had encouraged her when she told him her dream to rule the country so maybe she would have that opportunity, after all. 

Who knew what the future might hold? 

Jasmine couldn’t help but think that not only was Ali’s life threatened and the security of her father’s throne but he, himself, was proving to be a threat to her heart. 

He had stolen it quickly, with his awkwardly endearing charm, supportive words and admiring glances so the fact that Jafar was worried that her father’s throne was in jeopardy, was as sure as the sun rising every morning. Her love wasn’t the only thing that she was willing to give him, she would give him her hand too and she would freely give him the rest of the days of her life, as his wife, if he only asked. 

Jasmine searched his face, hoping that he felt the same way because she couldn’t bear it if he didn’t, but the softness in his eyes, as he watched her quietly, told her that he felt the same way.

She couldn’t be thinking about this now though. They needed to come up with a plan of action or there wouldn’t be a throne for either of them to inherit. Her father needed to know about Jafar’s plans but he would be immediately tipped off if Prince Ali just showed up in the great hall and requested to speak to him, especially if Jafar assumed that the prince had indeed drowned when he tossed him out of that tower window. 

She would have to talk to him herself, maybe send him a note… no, she didn’t often write letters to her father who resided in the same palace, it would seem too suspicious.

“We have to figure out a way to tell Baba the truth without giving Jafar a heads up that we’re on to him. How could we—?”

She stopped speaking abruptly when the door to her room was thrown open with a bang. Ali grasped her arm, pulling her closer against him but it was only Dalia and Ali’s servant.

“I’m sorry. It— took— so— long, Princess,” Dalia stuttered out around gasping breaths, “I ran all the way— to the prince's a-apartments but I couldn’t find him. Then wh-when I was coming back, there he was, right down the corridor— from your door.” 

Jasmine frowned at that, thinking it seemed kind of strange, but she had more to worry about than why the prince's servant wasn’t where Dalia had expected him to be. 

“Prince Ali, is everything okay?” 

Jasmine stepped away, as the tall servant came closer, his blue and turquoise outfit and ostentatious gold bangles were a unique choice and she could honestly say she had never seen anyone wear that exact look but she had seen very many different cultures and costumes at court. 

Ababwa must be a very interesting place, she thought, before being pulled back to the current moment by Dalia’s steps as she made her way over to them.

The prince’s servant stood next to him, his concerned gaze locked on his but he didn’t seem surprised by the prince’s appearance like Jasmine and Dalia had been. 

“It’s alright. I’m fine.” Ali brushed off the servant’s concern before turning his dark gaze back to Jasmine’s. “My, ahem, servant already knew about this. He’s the one who found me, after he grew concerned that I was gone to breakfast too long. I didn’t want to overwhelm you with too many details,” He explained, pressing his hands together in front of him with anxiety-riddled fingers. 

“That was very fortunate.” Dalia replied, looking between the prince and servant although her eyes seemed to linger longer on the taller of the two. Jasmine didn't blame her for her distraction. Dalia had also had a marvelous evening with the prince’s manservant as they walked around the palace gardens. She was smitten. Jasmine knew the feeling. 

“I think so too.” Ali looked up at the taller man, a grateful smile lifting the corner of his lips.

Jasmine was getting impatient. They needed to plan what would happen next, if they were to catch Jafar before he had a chance to put his own plan into motion. 

“Jafar needs to be stopped.” Jasmine reminded them, dropping her arms to her sides impatiently.

Ali turned back to her, his features serious, so different from the smile that had graced his lips the night before.

“I’m afraid this could get worse before it gets better,” Ali’s manservant spoke, wisdom burning in eyes, that seemed so much older than the forty or so years that he had lived as he looked between her, Dalia and the prince.

“I agree. We have to act fast before Jafar has a chance to steal the throne… if that's what he plans.”

“Oh, there’s no doubt about that. You can feel creepy rolling off of him.” Ali shook his head at his outspoken manservant but he let him speak without reprimand, reminding Jasmine of her own close relationship with Dalia. They were more like friends, almost sisters, than princess and handmaiden.

“I don’t want any harm to come to either of you,” Ali spoke, his serious expression planted on Jasmine and Dalia. 

“What do you mean ‘us’? He attacked you not us.” Jasmine retorted, a furious heat starting to build in her at the reminder of Jafar’s betrayal, “I’m more worried about what he will do when he realizes he didn’t succeed in killing you.” 

She could feel Dalia’s gaze on her back. The tension of the moment, between her and Ali, had an audience unlike earlier but she didn’t care what anyone else thought at the moment. 

“He won’t try to attack me again. Not with the sultan there.” Ali spoke but she didn’t believe him, the vizier had an odd way of getting her father to agree with him, on many serious issues that she would have sworn her father believed differently about. She could not watch while her father was twisted against her and the prince, the man she cared about, might even love although it seemed sudden. Worry, for her family and for the prince, worked its way into her belly and crowded her thoughts, leaving no room for the romantic musings that had floated through her head earlier that day.

If Jafar had tried to kill him inside the palace, there was no telling what he would do. He was unpredictable and that frightened Jasmine, but she knew she couldn’t sit back and let him take control of Agrabah. It was her city and she wouldn’t have it beaten down by a tyrant like Jafar, no matter what it cost her. 

“My father will be sitting down with Jafar soon for their daily meeting. If I can place myself where they are likely to be, then I can speak to my father about Jafar’s treachery. The guards will be there and can arrest him. That way you don’t have to get involved.”

“No, I don’t think that a good idea. I know you love your father but what if he doesn’t listen to you. I think I should be there too.”

Jasmine felt like she should be offended by the prince's assumption that her father wouldn't listen to her but he had heard her own doubts about her ability to rule Agrabah if given the chance, he probably had assumed that her father had overridden her ideas before, that’s all. It was surprising that he could read her so well. 

Jafar had a strange hold on her father and now that he had attacked the prince, she felt even more sure that he needed to be dealt with, quickly. She felt like she could do anything as long as Prince Ali was by her side, supporting her, even though she was still worried about what might happen next.


End file.
